Tell The Rain Not To Drop
by Funky In Fishnet
Summary: America, the 1920s. Agron's surprised, and thrilled, to see Nasir again. They make up for lost time and come to an important decision. Sequel to 'Hear Us Roar.'


_**Disclaimer: **I own nothing._

_**Author Note: **Sequel to 'Hear Us Roar' - which can be found at my profile :)_

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**TELL THE RAIN NOT TO DROP**

The apartment above the deli was cramped and smelled of fresh meat. Agron turned the taps with a wince. It was fine, he'd smelled a lot worse before, and he could stay for as long as he liked, thanks to the grateful deli owners below.

The air was steaming from the hot water and Agron had just pulled his shirt off when there was a knock at the door. He paused, one hand on his pistol. Glaber's men weren't that stupid or polite. Still he stayed cautious when he opened the door. He found Nasir on the other side.

That, he wasn't expecting. But it was a hell of a nice surprise.

They hadn't seen each for almost a month. Since that hot time in the alley, they'd briefly bumped into each other several times – sometimes on purpose, sometimes not – and they'd always managed some lip time. But it was never enough for either of them, they never had enough time together. Nasir had messages to deliver and bars to tend and Agron always had throats to crush in Duro's name. It was a constant frustration. But now, Nasir was in his doorway, eyes wide as he took in the damage Agron had sustained at the last party Spartacus had started. That was fine; it meant Agron could stare right back. God, he'd missed that view.

The silence stretched a couple of minutes, then Nasir seemed to come back to himself and stepped into the apartment without an invitation. Agron quickly closed the door behind him.

"Here to finish what you started?"

Nasir grinned, hands in his pockets. He looked a perfect sharp picture against the bare wall. "I was in the neighborhood. Spartacus says the meet's turned blue, and don't expect any Cole Porter."

Agron nodded once. Message received. The code sounded hokey but it was essential now – if the messengers didn't know what they were actually saying, then neither would anyone questioning them. Mira and Spartacus constantly worked that angle so that the code was unintelligible and always changing.

And Nasir hadn't made any move to leave. Agron smirked. That suited him fine. The hot water was still waiting and with the heat rising inside as well as out, backdated for way too long, Agron was in the mood to make his own challenge.

"There's room in the tub for two."

Nasir's eyes got even more heated, watching as Agron stripped off his shoulder holster and started work on his battered pinstripe-pants. Maybe it was playing chicken or playing with fire, but damn, Agron really wanted to leapfrog this crummy 'always out of time' phase. From how quickly Nasir followed him into the bathroom, he wasn't the only one.

Agron didn't wait around. He was in the tub moments after he got into the bathroom. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Nasir was here and he had time to share the hot water. The sound of zippers unfastening was loud and Agron watched as Nasir peeled off a short suit jacket and waistcoat. His pants were the next to drop and Agron licked his lips at all the beautiful dark flesh suddenly vividly on display – the sharp cut of hipbone, the muscled legs, well, everything below the waistline was of particular interest. Nasir grinned knowingly and entered the tub as swiftly as Agron had. Their legs tangled and the water level fluctuated wildly.

Nasir was buck naked and sharing a tub with him. God could be very good when he damn well chose to be.

Nasir's foot worked its way up Agron's longer legs as he got comfortable in the now-cramped space. He looked as happy as Agron felt to be experiencing this. Who knew if and when they'd ever again get this chance? Glaber was closing in and Spartacus was running out of alleys to escape down. The likelihood was, they'd be switching cities by the end of the week. Agron gripped Nasir's leg. This was the first time in forever that the thought of leaving somewhere was negative to him. The reason for that was currently sharing his hot water.

From the look in Nasir's eyes, he knew it too. He slid closer, encouraging Agron to lie out fully. Then his slippery nuanced body came to rest on top. Skin on wet skin. Agron had to close his eyes for a moment to leash his self-control. Saxa would use her knives on him if he wrecked the bathroom. Looking at Nasir made it hard for him to care about that at all.

Nasir slid against him, confidently massaging any part of Agron's body that his hands came into contact with. His hair was wet and beginning to curl from the steam. He suddenly looked very young. Agron gently touched his face, wanting to box up that image for future warmth in the inevitably dark days ahead. God could be good, but he could also take a mighty leak on them from on high when he felt like it. And boy, did he often feel like it.

There was a deep ache in Agron's chest as he contemplated being parted from this beautiful boy. He was surprised to realize that the separation wouldn't just be a damn shame, it would **hurt**. Nasir rolled his hips, the look in his eyes and the expression of his hands more than clearly communicating that Agron wasn't the only one suffering pain at the idea. Neither wanted to let the other go. Agron wrapped his arms around Nasir tight. Their movements became even more frantic.

To be without this, to never again have the touch of Nasir's hands or lips or tongue, to not even have another breathless stolen moment together...it really wasn't something he wanted to bear. He didn't think he would be able to.

Agron buried his face in Nasir's beautiful expanse of neck. The pain in Agron's chest became something different, something possessive, hungry, and hot.

He clenched his thighs and muttered sweet words into Nasir's skin, his streaming wet hair, his jawline, his mouth. Nasir heard him, still moving hard, and gave a guttural cry. Saxa was going to have a real good time later teasing Agron about this. The thought was fleeting as in the next moment Agron was more-than-willingly overwhelmed.

By the time they'd finished, the water was cold and a decision had been made.

By the time they left together the next day, both their shirts were wet through, their skin was extensively marked, and Nasir was wearing somebody else's waistcoat.

_-the end_


End file.
